


It's Lonely to Remember

by dreysam



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Enemies that hang out and kiss sometimes, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Post-Rebellion Story, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:15:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreysam/pseuds/dreysam
Summary: Sayaka and Homura both remember more than they should.
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Miki Sayaka, Miki Sayaka/Sakura Kyouko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

Sayaka was seated at an ornate table. It was round and white, small too, but not small enough that she could reach out and strangle the dark-haired girl in front of her. The dark-haired girl must have thought of that, because Sayaka’s wrists were bound behind her with something cold and metallic. Surrounding the table was a thick perimeter of trees, making it impossible to discern where they actually were. 

Struggling to free herself, Sayaka growled “what the hell do you want? Why am I here?” 

“I want to talk.” 

“I don’t. Let me go. Now.” 

“We’re going to talk.” 

“Then why are my hands tied? Not exactly a great way to start a dialogue.” Sayaka’s words dripped venom. 

“We both know we’d never be able to have a conversation any other way.” 

“Damn right.” 

Homura set down her teacup, “do you even remember why you dislike me?” 

“The hell does it matter? I know you're a monster, you can fuck with my memories as many times as you want but I'll never forget that.” 

“Try again. You’ll remember.” 

Warmth. Peace. Hope. Salvation for all magical girls. And it had something to do with Madoka. 

“The Law of Cycles… you stole Madoka from the Law of Cycles. You spit on her wish, everything she worked for!" 

“Good, you do remember. What else do you remember?” 

"Is this an interrogation? Screw you." 

"Would you like it to become an interrogation?" Homura's voice came out low and sickeningly cold. 

Sayaka didn't respond. 

"I'll ask again; what else do you remember?" 

"Barely anything, you made sure of that." 

"I find that hard to believe." 

"Not my problem." 

"Don't make me dig through your memories myself." 

Sayaka jolted to attention, "you can't do that! You don't have that sort of power, there's no way," as if she were trying to convince herself. 

“Don’t I?” 

“No, you don’t,” Sayaka smirked. 

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Breaking the silence, “cereal for breakfast...” 

“Fuck you!” Sayaka boomed. 

“I have no interest in digging up your dirty secrets, I only want you to cooperate.” 

“Is that why you kidnapped me and locked me up? Yeah, I’d love to cooperate with you," the word _you_ slithered out of her throat in a way that couldn’t convey more contempt if she tried. She hit her restraints against the chair, finishing her point with a metallic clang. 

Homura waved her hand and the restraints fell to the ground. 

“You’re right. I’ll start with a memory of my own. I remember getting lost at the fair; I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to find the rest of the group, that I’d ruin the night for myself and for all of you because you’d be worrying about where I was instead of having fun. I remember that you were the one who found me and walked me back to the others.” 

Sayaka’s mind coiled around Homura’s words, reaching through the sounds and into the feelings being stirred up from the floor of her memory like dust in an attic long left unattended; clawing for something, anything, tangible to hold on to. Lights, the sound of a crowd. Feelings bearing the same shape as the girl in front of her but painted a different color, the words _protect, mourn, requiem._ “Riveting story.” 

“It was in the labyrinth. Do you remember it?” 

“Maybe. Do you have a point?” 

“Yes.” 

“Get to it.” 

“I don’t know why you still have your memories, I would like to find out how complete they are and how far back they go.” 

“Right, and once I answer all your questions, you’ll wipe my memories again but do it right this time. No thanks.” 

“I don’t intend to manipulate your memories again.” 

“You’re so benevolent,” Sayaka mocked. 

“What about Kyouko?” 

Sayaka went cold, “what about her?” 

“How much do you remember about her?” 

Gritting her teeth, “what are you trying to say?” 

“As I recall, she did something for you right before you joined the Law of Cycles. Do you remember it?” 

Sayaka was drowning in impossible darkness, darkness that had consumed her from the inside and lashed out wildly at everyone who came close. Kyouko’s hand met her in that darkness, and the darkness felt a little less dark. 

The dam burst, “yes, I remember what she did! How dare you even suggest that I could forget it! Screw you! I don’t have to listen to this.” 

Sayaka stood up to leave but before she could turn around she heard the words “I’m sorry.” Her eyes darted up to meet Homura’s. What the hell? 

“What did you say?” every word was caustic as it left Sayaka’s mouth. 

“I said I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to insinuate that you would forget.” The rage that had bubbled up inside of Sayaka evaporated in a violent instant without anywhere in particular to go. The fact that she couldn’t be angry at Homura pissed her off even more than she would have been if Homura hadn’t apologized. She fumed and sputtered for a moment, trying to form a word, but she had nothing. Accepting defeat, she sat back down. 

“I don’t remember the events that lead up to it, but I remember what Kyouko did for me. I would never forget.” 

“And she doesn’t remember?” 

“No, she doesn’t, but whose fault is that?” 

Ignoring the jab, Homura continued, “do you remember anything before that point?” 

“Yeah, but it’s all normal. I assume they’re your handiwork.” 

“Your memories aren’t fake. I removed two individual months of time and made it so you believed Madoka moved away. That’s all.” 

“Yeah well that’s still three years of time with Madoka that you had to erase, so don’t pat yourself on the back too hard.” 

“What do you remember about the inside of the labyrinth?” 

“Not much.” 

“Then it seems your only real memories are of Kyouko and what I did to Madoka.” 

“Guess so,” Sayaka paused and continued with a burst of newfound indignation, “no that’s not accurate. I remember feelings. I remember the feeling of being by Kyouko’s side and knowing I trust her with my life, I remember the feeling of being able to confide in Madoka, I remember the feeling of knowing that I can rely on Mami for guidance; but I have no clue why. You took those memories from me; so now all I'm left with is some abstract bullshit, and all I know is that I feel so much closer to them than any of them feel to me, and I have to stop myself from talking to them like they’re my friends because sometimes I forget that you pulled us all apart.” 

Sayaka continued, “and I remember you too. I remember so much jealousy and frustration and anger and fear, but I also remember, just barely, affection; and that pisses me off the most, because I don’t know where it comes from.” 

Homura traced a finger around the rim of her cup, “wouldn’t it be easier for both of us if we could forget everything?” 

Sayaka couldn’t tell if the question was rhetorical or not, “easier? Yeah, sure; if you don’t want to remember what you did to Madoka, then forget it; coward. I’ll always remember.” 

“You’re right, I believe you will. Some things seem to be too powerful to forget.” Homura paused, “I remember you too. I remember more than just feelings. I remember our first time fighting together, I remember that after we killed the witch, I went home and cried. I considered dropping out of the team because I didn’t want to get you hurt, but my magic was so useless that I couldn’t do anything but rely on explosives.” 

This didn’t ring a bell; yet the idea of Homura crying felt bitter and somehow sickeningly plausible, and the word _witch_ brought with it a torrent of pain and despair. "Why are you telling me this?" 

“Because I believe we understand each other better than you’re willing to admit. We’re both burdened to carry our memories, and because of that, we’ll never acclimate fully to this world.” 

“Bullshit, I’ll acclimate just fine. I have Kyouko, I don’t need you.” 

“Then let go of your hatred towards me and do so.” 

Sayaka grimaced. 

“But you can’t. Because you don’t know if it’s right. Because letting go and allowing yourself to be happy would be an affront to Madoka. I feel the same way. So you and I both will have one foot in the past.” 

“You getting to be happy _would_ be an affront to Madoka.” 

“I know,” Homura accepted without argument. 

“I can’t let you win. I can't let you get away with what you did to her.” 

“I only want Madoka to live normally.” 

Sayaka raised her voice, “you think I don’t want that?! You think I’m happy with the arrangement where I’m dead and Madoka’s a god? It’s not about what we want! It’s about our responsibility.” 

Homura didn’t try to argue, she knew that Madoka shared Sayaka’s perspective, "so will you go against me?" 

Sayaka thought about what ending Homura’s false world would entail—that long red hair, that ratty blue hoodie that's so old it barely fits, her sparkling eyes and her disarming smile—it would mean losing her. "I don't know." 

Even through Sayaka’s anger, Homura could see sentimentality in her eyes, "you're thinking of Kyouko..." 

Sayaka muttered, "yeah... but I know that if I get close to her, I won't be able to do what I need to." 

"I understand." 

"How? You already won, you have Madoka." 

"I’m the devil, Madoka has no place for someone like me in her life. I can't even remember what her smile looks like anymore." 

"I guess neither of us are happy, then." Sayaka looked down at her lap, averting her eyes from Homura as if seeing the dark-haired girl in any light other than the purple glow of Madoka’s stolen power was painful, like it made her look too human. 

"Maybe not," Homura trailed off. Not looking up from her tea, "you don't need to be alone..." 

"How can I not be? You took everything from me." 

Homura started, “I didn’t mean to…” 

“Oh well then it’s okay then!” 

“I don’t know why you have your memories.” 

“You only care because you know I’d be an obstacle. Don’t pretend it’s about me or my well-being, if I didn’t remember what you did to Madoka then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, you’d leave me to suffer alone.” 

“You won’t be an obstacle.” 

Sayaka chuckled, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to reassure me or warn me that you’d kill me with no hesitation.” 

“I care about your happiness too. I put you with Kyouko for a reason.” 

“Yeah, well great job, all it did is make me feel like shit. All it did is remind me that I have feelings built up from however much time we spent together, and she doesn’t.” 

"Then spend time with me." 

Sayaka cackled, "that's rich, I didn't know you had a sense of humor." 

"As of right now, we understand each other better than anyone else." 

"What, are you lonely? Staring at Madoka from around corners isn't enough to warm your cold heart?" 

Homura lifted her eyes from her tea and set them on Sayaka. What was that expression? A quiet, simmering anger? Sayaka loved that look. 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

“Oh, are you angry? Just hurry up and kill me, get it over with, you know you want to,” Sayaka goaded. She knew Homura wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t matter to her if she did. 

“I like you too much to kill you.” 

Sayaka exploded, “what the hell is your problem?! Get pissed off! Did you tie me up and bring me here just to get on your knees and beg me to come over for dinner? You’re the devil, act like it! Kill me, have Madoka, you can do anything you want! Why are you acting so pathetic?!” 

Homura stood up, "next time you're thinking about how distant you feel from Kyouko, remember my offer." 

Sayaka choked on her words, “don’t you leave! Answer my question! The hell is wrong with you?!” 

The trees around them peeled away and the world resumed. Sayaka heard the clinking of teacups and the chatter of rush hour dining. When she looked back to where Homura had been standing, Homura was gone. Sayaka trembled as she got her bearings.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sayakaaa, dance with me,” Kyouko called out as she climbed onto the DDR machine. 

“No way, you always trash me, it’s totally unfair.” 

“I’ll go easy on ya,” Kyouko smiled. 

Sayaka couldn’t resist that face, “ugh fine.” 

Sayaka stepped onto the dancing stage and planted her feet on the left and right arrows. Kyouko shot her a smile as the machine counted down to their faceoff. The machine rang and the music began. They started slowly at first, but as the song picked up Sayaka found herself missing steps and falling behind. She tried to keep up, even as her legs got tangled on each other and her arms forgot to move, but their scores outpaced each other and Sayaka knew she couldn’t catch up. As she accepted her inevitable defeat, she looked over at her opponent. 

Kyouko really was incredible; she was surprisingly graceful even though first impressions might give you the idea that she was clumsy and lackadaisical. She dragged her feet when she was bored—and she often was—and she ate junk food most of the day; but when it was time to move, no one could move like her. Even when she was fighting, she moved like she was dancing; and when she was excited, those dragging feet skipped like she could barely contain herself and the excitement was just boiling off of her. 

“What happened? You stopped dancing,” Kyouko panted, not missing a step of her dance combo. 

Had she? Sayaka looked down at the dance mat. Apparently she had. 

“It’s more interesting to watch you,” Sayaka leaned back on the railing surrounding the dance pad. 

Kyouko chuckled. 

Sayaka watched as Kyouko continued to dance; her springy steps were perfectly in sync with the music, her arms whipped and folded just like the graphic on the screen. Sayaka could watch this all day, or as long as Kyouko could keep it up, which could very well be all day. But eventually the song came to an end and the machine cheered and congratulated Kyouko on a near-perfect score, it gave Sayaka a few pity points as well but Sayaka had already checked out and hopped down by that point. Kyouko stepped down too, with a stupid grin on her face. 

Still catching her breath she turned to Sayaka, “well, enjoy the show?” 

Sayaka turned red. She didn’t mean it that way, did she? She didn’t think Sayaka was ogling her, right? Because she wasn’t, she just, she just… it didn’t matter because Kyouko was already running to the next thing to do. 

“Come on, let's go get ice cream, I'm exhausted.” 

Snapping back to reality, “right, yeah, coming. Wait, with what money?” 

“Oh. Can you pretty please buy me ice cream?” Kyouko pleaded. 

“You’re hopeless.” 

“I’ll let you have some!” 

“I don’t want any,” Sayaka smiled, “let’s just go, before they close.” 

“Race ya?” 

“You’re still out of breath.” 

“That just makes us even,” Kyouko grinned. 

They ran. 

… 

Sayaka watched as Kyouko devoured her ice cream. The two of them sat in the cold, on a park bench. Sayaka savored moments like these. The moments that came in between the loud ones and the exciting ones—the moments where it was just the two of them and they could enjoy each others’ company without some activity to bind them together. Did Kyouko enjoy them too? She always seemed to be ready to do something else, was that because those were the only moments she enjoyed? If they weren’t at the arcade, if they weren’t rushing off somewhere to do something, would they still enjoy each others’ company? 

There she went again, worrying again. Maybe Kyouko was onto something, maybe it was better to be doing things and keeping yourself distracted. Was that why Kyouko was always on the move? Because she didn’t want to let herself get bogged down in these sorts of feelings? Or was that wishful thinking? Of course it was, because Kyouko didn’t feel the same way. Kyouko didn’t remember. Kyouko doesn’t know that they’ve met before, that they’ve been friends before, that they’ve fought together and bonded together. She can’t feel it. Only Sayaka could. 

God, Homura was right. It’s not helping. Kyouko was right next to her but there was still an uncrossable distance between them. She shouldn’t even be here. This place wasn’t even real, Kyouko wasn’t real, none of this was anything more than a zoo enclosure for Madoka that the rest of them happened to be in. What was she doing, wasting time with Kyouko, trying to act out some imitation of a normal life? She should be with Madoka, with the Law of Cycles. 

“Yo, want some?” Kyouko held out the ice cream cone. 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Sayaka smiled. 

“I feel bad, makin’ you buy me ice cream and then eating it in front of you.” 

“Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me.” 

“I will!” Kyouko grinned, probably already hatching some idea. She went back to devouring her cone. Sayaka inhaled and let her eyes wander the dark streets. 

* * *

Homura sat in a meadow at the edge of a cliff. It was dark, the sun had long set and there were no street lights to illuminate her. She preferred it this way; she didn’t have to see herself, her legs, her hands in her lap—the same hands that ripped Madoka in half, the same hands that killed everyone she cared about over and over until she couldn’t care about them anymore. The brisk wind whipped against her hair, sending stray strands into her eyes and mouth. Even with all this power, she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t stop the hair from blowing into her mouth, she couldn’t talk to Madoka, she couldn’t make herself happy. But her power wasn’t for her; she stole this power from Madoka and she would use every bit of it for the purpose of allowing Madoka to be happy, allowing her to be human. 

Madoka always seemed to enjoy being human. She was bright and warm, even the sad days barely touched her because being sad was part of being human but being happy was the most human thing of all. Homura wasn’t suited to it. Madoka’s presence would warm her and bring her light, but without Madoka’s radiance she would be cold and alone. The sickening blackness inside of her would fester and in time it would consume her entirely. Madoka’s kindness allowed her to feel human, it allowed her to realize just how important people like Madoka are; so she allowed herself to become something sickening for Madoka’s sake. 

But even the devil gets lonely. 

Fitting that it would be Sayaka. Sayaka was stubborn and righteous, but bullheadedness alone shouldn’t have been enough to allow her to keep her memories. Madoka’s power was strong, it was strong enough to contain the hope of all magical girls, strong enough to free them from their despair. It was certainly strong enough to erase memories; but there they met, under the cherry blossom trees, the knight of the Law of Cycles already bearing sword. There was no one more fitting for the role. Who else could provide the verbal lashing that Homura required? Who else could ensure that she never forgets how she defiled Madoka? It could be nobody but Madoka’s best friend. 

She could try to wipe Sayaka’s memories again, but if it was her own subconscious will that allowed Sayaka to keep them, it wouldn’t do any good. Sayaka was in this with her now. The labyrinth felt so recent, like just last week they were having tea at Mami's and laughing together. Was it selfish to not want to lose that? Was it selfish to break everyone up, violate them and play with their memories as you please, and still want their company? 

The wind slapping against Homura’s face called at her to jump. But jumping never accomplished anything. She would hit the ground and feel her body break, but Madoka’s power would keep her alive, it would tend to her wounds, and she would still be here. 

Her phone rang. 

* * *

Sayaka’s voice sounded breathy as it came through the phone. It was late, nearly 9 pm, and she had just gotten back from spending the day with Kyouko. They had fun, a lot of fun even, but every now and then Sayaka would let her eyes linger on Kyouko for a little too long, or laugh a little too hard at Kyouko’s jokes, or blush at one of Kyouko’s comments; and Kyouko wouldn’t even notice. It was nights like these, nights that should have been warm, that felt the coldest. 

Sayaka didn’t know Madoka anymore, they spent three years growing apart; she didn’t know Mami anymore either, they had only exchanged a few words at best. With Kyouko she had to choke down her words because it wasn’t the Kyouko she knew; the Kyouko she knew had fought by her side, been light in her darkness. It hurt too much to lie. It hurt too much to smile at Kyouko like they were both sharing the same experience when in reality they weren’t and they couldn’t ever again. She didn’t have to lie to Homura. She didn’t have to pretend. She could tell Homura that she hated her guts and Homura could say it back and they could fight and kill each other over it but at least it wouldn’t be a lie. 

But if Sayaka felt anything towards Homura; it was disgust, or pity so strong that it bottomed out and spilled into anger. Homura was pathetic, it was disgusting for the devil to be so weak. But Homura wasn’t really a devil, she could call herself one and wear that black iron earring containing Madoka’s power, she could threaten people and smile as she did it, but she was pretending. She was more like a corpse—a corpse belonging to someone who died long ago, a corpse already decaying but still moving through the power of Madoka’s stolen magic. A corpse can’t harm anyone. It may try to scare you away with unsightly decay and rancid smells, but it’s just for show. It’s dead. 

Maybe it was just curiosity, like a moth drawn to a flame; maybe she would let her wings burn in the fire, it wouldn’t matter to anyone anyway. So she called Homura. 

“Did you add yourself to my phone as a contact?” 

“Yes.” 

“Typical,” Sayaka scoffed, “I… I thought about your offer some more.” 

“Do you want me to come get you?” 

“No.” 

“It’s late.” 

“I don’t care. Tell me where to go and I’ll find my way.” 

Homura told Sayaka her address and Sayaka was on her way. She recognized this route anyway, she’d taken it before. With Madoka, probably. She spent the walk thinking about Kyouko; the frigid air and dimly lit streets felt like a representation of her feelings, somehow.


	3. Chapter 3

_Knock knock knock._

The door opened immediately. Neither of them bothered with greetings, Homura stepped aside and Sayaka walked in. Homura’s apartment was barren; most of the surfaces were white and all of the lighting came from cold ceiling lamps, the furniture was sparse and there wasn’t a decoration to be seen. It wasn’t surprising, but Sayaka had still secretly hoped for something more comforting. 

“Your apartment sucks.” 

“Hosting guests was never a concern.” 

“I can tell.” 

“My room is a little better,” Homura started off down one of the hallways and Sayaka followed. 

Homura’s room was dark and mostly featureless save for a convertible sofa bed and a TV that it was set up to face; the TV was set to some cheesy romance movie, which was providing the only light in the room. But the room had carpet, so it was already an improvement over the living room. Homura went to her bed and started folding it back into couch configuration. 

“A sofa bed? Wow, I thought you said guests weren’t a concern,” Sayaka feigned surprise. 

“It was for me," Homura finished setting up the couch, "have a seat." 

"Why am I here?" 

"You tell me," Homura sat down. 

"You know why I came, I mean why did you invite me. Do you think by hanging out, you'll win me to your side? Enough junk food and movies and I'll suddenly agree with what you did to Madoka?" 

"No. There was no ulterior motive. You know that my reason was the same as yours." 

Homura was right, Sayaka did know, but she needed to argue anyway, she needed to be hostile anyway; because Homura was an enemy. Homura would always be an enemy. 

Sayaka sat down beside Homura. Neither of them spoke for a while, the lights and sounds of the TV filled the silence just enough to be bearable, so neither of them had to say a word. Sayaka eyed the girl next to her, the soft glow of the TV screen highlighted her sharp features and made even them seem soft too. The light flickered and danced across her skin, intermittently revealing more and then less; her complexion was almost perfect, but even through the dark Sayaka could see the bags under her eyes. She was tired, the kind of tired that you can’t sleep off; a lifetime of tired, maybe even several. 

"Why are you acting like this?" 

Not lifting her eyes from the movie, “like what?” 

“Like this! You’re the devil, you said it yourself, but instead of doing anything you’re just… sitting there. Even the other day when I was trying to piss you off, you barely reacted. I know what you did to Madoka, I could tell her right now, why don’t you do something about it? Why don’t you lock me up or kill me or something?” 

“You won’t tell Madoka.” 

“Won’t I?” 

“I don’t believe you will. You’re free to prove me wrong, in which case I’ll do what I must.” 

“Oh so this is all some sort of power move? You think you’re hot shit now that you have Madoka’s power and you’re just daring me to try something, that right?” 

"I have no desire to fight you." 

"What, are you giving up?" 

"No. I just don't want to fight you. I've done that too many times already. You can feel however you like, and if pushed I'll do whatever it takes to keep Madoka here, but I won’t fight you needlessly and I won't humor your attempts to make me angry." 

"Wow, you think you have me all figured out, huh.” 

"No. But I've had a lot of time to study your behavior." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"You wouldn't remember." 

"Then tell me! I thought that was your whole point, that we should get along because we're the only ones who remember anything." 

"I repeated one month of time over and over for many years. Watching your decision-making process gave me insight into your character." 

"Oh really? So who am I?" Sayaka goaded. 

"Sayaka Miki." 

"Wow...” she taunted, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed, "so you remember all these things about me and I still barely know a thing about you." 

"You said you have your feelings." 

"My feelings about you are too confusing to make sense of." 

"We were amicable at one point. Things deteriorated each time I repeated that month." 

"Feels like things deteriorated pretty bad." 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"I had to protect Madoka, even if other people got in the way." 

"Of course, it's always about Madoka, and I'm sure it was all my fault too." 

"It wasn't. It wasn't anybody's fault." 

Sayaka thought about that for a moment, it sounded almost like an apology, "but we were never close? You said we went to a fair…" 

"We were close then. That was right before I took Madoka from the Law of Cycles. You had memories of every timeline and I didn't." 

"Huh…" 

“It seems like you would prefer that we continue to be hostile.” 

“No… well yeah, I mean maybe, ugh I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of you. I can’t tell if I hate you or not. I probably should. Fighting would just be a lot more straightforward than whatever this crap is.” 

Homura stifled a smile, Sayaka had always thought in black and white but hearing her admit to it so readily was amusing. Homura matched that honesty with her own, "I don't hate you. I've never hated you. Even the times when I've had to kill you, it was never out of hatred." 

"How sweet." 

"It's okay if you hate me. I wouldn't blame you." 

"You want me to." 

"Maybe. Maybe that's why you still have your memories." 

"I won't give you the satisfaction; but I can’t forgive you either." 

“You shouldn’t.” 

“I won’t. But… being here makes me feel like I’m forgiving you.” 

“You don’t have to forgive me to be here. We both want something from each other, that’s all.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Company.” 

Sayaka scoffed, "you're the last person I want company from." 

"I know." 

They let the noises of the TV carry them for a time. 

"So what happened with Kyouko?" 

"What?! Nothing! Nothing happened." 

"Yet, you’re here." 

"Nothing happened, I just… I really wanted to hold her hand, I guess..." Words like those felt wrong coming out of Sayaka’s mouth. Too soft and vulnerable for a girl like her, falling on particularly harsh ears. 

Homura placed her hand palm up next to her. Sayaka looked at it, she knew what it meant, but not with her, it couldn't be with her; but it couldn’t be with Kyouko, she ached for warmth and she couldn’t find it where she wanted it most. They were alike in that way. They would lie to themselves and say that they would go anywhere for warmth, that this was only a last resort, but that wasn’t the whole truth because they had something in common that nobody else did. Even though her mind was screaming at her not to; instinctually, like an animal finding shelter in the rain, Sayaka placed her hand into Homura's, and it felt warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Homura?! Homura’s hand, Homura’s place, her couch?! Sayaka wrenched her hand free from Homura’s and got up as quietly as she could. She had to leave, what was she even doing here? She tiptoed down the hallway that Homura had led her down just the night before, through the living room, and out the front door. She caught her breath. What the hell was she doing sleeping next to Homura? Her legs started moving before her mind had even realized, she had to get out of there, right now, before Homura woke up and realized that she bailed. Her brisk walk broke into a sprint until she was barrelling down the sidewalk. What the hell? What the hell? Why? How did she let that happen? 

* * *

Homura wasn’t surprised that Sayaka was gone when she woke up.


	5. Chapter 5

Kyouko’s thumbs danced across glass. Black characters appeared on the screen. 

_ wanna hang? movie?  _

Kyouko dropped her arm to her side and sighed. She was super bored. It would be nice if Sayaka said yes, she’d been wanting to see this new movie but she was putting it off until she could see it with Sayaka. Not that it was even really about the movie; she would do whatever Sayaka wanted to do, the movie was just an excuse. Her phone buzzed. 

_ sorry, really busy today :/  _

Yeah, figured. Sayaka seemed like she had something going on, she wasn’t able to talk yesterday either. Maybe catching up on homework, or something with family, or maybe not that last one because Sayaka’s family didn’t seem to be around much. Come to think of it, Kyouko wasn’t even sure what they did. She vaguely recalled Sayaka saying something about a business trip once, so whenever she imagined them, they looked like studious office workers that worked late and took trips often. 

Kyouko typed back:  _ kk cya tomorrow  _

Her phone buzzed:  _ see ya  _

She sighed, slipped her phone into her pocket, and made a mental note to ask Sayaka what her parents did. 

* * *

A beam of heat reflected off the silver of Sayaka’s blade, humming and crisping the air around it as it rebounded into a concrete pillar. Another beam, another blast of light and heat that bit at the skin of her arm as she caught this one and deflected it too. The skeletal mirage roared and discharged two more beams in quick succession. Sayaka didn’t bother trying to catch them. She dashed forward and dragged her sword through the base of the monster, catching on smoky magic that felt like pulling a knife through a thick spiderweb. The creature roared once more and withered into dust. 

It was too easy. The wraith was nothing to her. She thought some adrenaline would make her feel better but wraiths like these didn’t even work up a sweat. What a waste of time. There would be no release, no catharsis; only distraction. 

Sayaka dropped her sword to the ground and took a deep breath. Maybe she should find more to fight. She usually fought with Kyouko, but today she couldn’t bear to look at her. Not after what she did. It was better this way anyway, she could fight clumsily without Kyouko scolding her, she could get hurt without Kyouko worrying about her. 

She and Kyouko fought because they wanted to do good, because protecting people from evil was a noble cause. How could she look at Kyouko now and pretend she was still able to fight for good? She gave in. She let Homura get into her mind, she ignored good and justice and everything else just for a couple moments of warmth. 

There were other magical girls in the city that Kyouko could fight with anyway, Mami had even approached them about the rings on their fingers with the intention of teaming up. At the time Sayaka laughed it off and said “yeah sure I’ll think about it!” but it was a lie because she knew that fighting with Mami would remind her of a time that didn’t exist anymore. Kyouko didn't have that problem. Kyouko and Mami got along well, they would make a good team. They didn't need her. 

Kyouko didn’t need a worthless vestige of a dead world hanging around and dragging her down. Kyouko could blossom here. It felt like Kyouko hadn’t been able to blossom before; Kyouko didn’t have a family and whenever Sayaka pulled that string in her mind to try and find out why, all it would accomplish was making her feel bitter and sad without coming any closer to an answer. Whatever happened before this—Kyouko didn’t have a happy life, and now she did. Sayaka would only hold her back from that. 

Whatever. Whatever. Not going to think about it. Thinking wasn’t helping. She was going to find another wraith.


	6. Chapter 6

A pink-haired girl walked with green, the two laughed and smiled without a care in the world. Madoka adjusted to Japan quickly. Things fell back into place like those three years apart never happened, Hitomi and Madoka were hanging out like normal and the only person with an issue seemed to be Sayaka. The only person who was hesitant or reluctant was Sayaka. She had to excuse herself and push Madoka away whenever Madoka tried to reconnect; and maybe it made her an asshole, but Madoka wouldn't want to be here either if she knew the truth. 

Madoka spotted Sayaka and smiled. Sayaka forced a smile in return. 

Madoka looked happy. 

Red and yellow together. Mami’s perfectly-maintained curls made her seem out of place exchanging words with Kyouko. Kyouko’s hair was long and not particularly cared for, her uniform was wrinkled and her shirt was tucked into her skirt. Not that she was sloppy, she just didn’t care to doll herself up for school. Mami departed after a short while and Kyouko leaned back onto a wall, scanning the crowd. 

Kyouko’s eyes lit up as they picked Sayaka out. She waved. Sayaka waved back but couldn’t share her enthusiasm. 

Everyone was happy but Sayaka. 

The devil passed by Sayaka’s side. Her silken black locks made her seem refined, but the violent iron ornament around her ear and piercing eyes told a different story. 

Homura didn’t acknowledge Sayaka as she passed. 

The bell rang.


	7. Chapter 7

Sayaka slumped over her desk. She should have stayed home. She didn’t just go over to Homura’s apartment, she didn’t just fraternize with the enemy, she actually fucking fell asleep on the enemy’s couch. How did she let that happen? Did she actually buy all of Homura’s bullshit? Of course she did. Homura made herself seem pitiful and she actually fell for it. How pathetic, what justice was there in letting Homura get a free pass for what she did and  _ then _ going over to her place, just to hang out? Madoka would be sick. 

Kyouko leaned out of her chair and whispered, "hey, Sayaka, you alright?" 

Sayaka sat up, "what? Yeah, oh, yeah I'm fine," she chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair. 

She couldn't tell Kyouko. She wanted so badly to tell Kyouko everything, but she couldn't. There was too much to say. This world was sickening, it shouldn’t exist, it was the work of Homura and Sayaka wanted nothing more than to tear it apart and spit in Homura’s face; but then she would see how happy Kyouko is to be here, and she would realize that she doesn’t want to take it from her, she doesn’t want to turn her back on Kyouko and go back to being dead. 

If Kyouko knew the nature of this world, would she feel the same way? If she knew that Sayaka should be dead, would Kyouko want her to stay? It was sick, but a part of Sayaka wanted the answer to be yes. Even if it meant leaving would be more painful, at least it would prove that Kyouko felt the same way. God, she was the worst. How could she even think that sort of thing? 

"Kay. You just seemed sorta out of it." 

"No yeah I'm fine. Just tired.” 

Kyouko nodded and returned to her work. 

She needed out. Sayaka raised her hand, “Ms. Saotome, can I go to the bathroom?” 

“Mhmm, go ahead.” 

Sayaka got out of her seat and walked as briskly as she could. 

… 

Sayaka’s clammy hands clung to the wall, her stomach churned and retched but nothing came out. She gave herself a moment. 

She really was the worst. She was the lowest of the low. She failed Madoka. Instead of doing her fucking job as a part of the Law of Cycles, she ran to Homura. She ran to the person responsible. And now she had to sit in class like she didn’t betray the two people in it who were most important to her. 

Make a choice! Madoka or Kyouko? That’s all it came down to. But how could she choose? Madoka’s wish was selfless and beautiful, it was more important than her or anyone else; but returning to the Law of Cycles would mean leaving Kyouko, taking this all away from her. 

Just say it! She didn’t give a shit about Kyouko, she would throw Kyouko to the wolves if it meant she got to feel a little more righteous. No, because she did give a shit about Kyouko, that was the issue. She cared a lot, she cared too much, she cared about Kyouko more than she cared about whatever lofty ideals she claimed to have; but it wasn’t just about the ideals, it was about abandoning Madoka and letting her be violated. 

She clutched her stomach and retched again. Please, god, just pick one. Just end this. She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough. Madoka trusted her and she couldn’t do it. She thought she cared about justice, about doing what’s right, but the second what’s right conflicts with what she wants, she’s too weak to make a decision. 

... 

“Ms. Saotome, can I go see the nurse?" 

"Oof you don’t look very good. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Homura, will you go with her?" 

Sayaka clenched a fist, "I don't think that's necessary, I don't want to interrupt her work.” 

"Nonsense. She’s the nurse’s aide, after all; that's her job," Ms. Saotome smiled. 

Homura was already up and making her way to the front desk. 

“Come with me.” 

Sayaka gritted her teeth. She followed Homura down the halls until they were out of sight of the classrooms, with every step she got angrier. It was Homura’s fault. All of this was Homura’s fault. It was Homura’s fault that she still had her memories, it was Homura’s fault that she was going to have to fight Homura and return to the Law of Cycles. Homura’s incompetency would cost both of them everything. What was the point of this? What was the point of creating a world where everyone is unhappy? 

Homura broke the silence, “are you sick?” 

“Fuck you,” Sayaka spit the words out like they were acid. 

“This is about what happened the other night?” 

“No. It’s about you. How dare you? You couldn’t remove my memories properly so now you’re using me as some sort of emotional support. Screw you. I don’t want anything to do with you.” 

“You called me.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t plan for it. You played me, you’ve been manipulating me all this time. You can never stop manipulating people, it’s what you live for.” 

No response. Sayaka boiled. That was it. It would be worth telling Madoka just to watch Homura lose. Sayaka clenched her fists, “I’ll tell Madoka. I’m not playing your game anymore, I’m going to tell Madoka about the Law of Cycles.” 

“You’re free to try.” 

“I will,” Sayaka pivoted 180 degrees on her foot and shot herself down the hallway. She didn't have a plan, but it didn't matter because before she could reach the classrooms, the hallway had melted away and her feet were getting caught in the brush of a meadow. 

Sayaka turned around and looked at Homura, her eyes burning with rage. The ring on her finger glowed with an intensity to match her anger and in an instant she was out of her school clothes and bearing a cutlass. Homura’s eyes followed as Sayaka raised the sword over her head. In a flash of silver, Sayaka brought the sword down. 

The blade connected with a sickening squelch. The force Sayaka put behind the swing allowed her to cleave cleanly through what must have been flesh, following all the way through until she had pulled the sword to the other side of her body. 

A spiderweb of crimson ran down the length of Sayaka’s dangling blade, congealing at the tip to form a bulb that dripped down onto the flowers beneath. Sayaka’s chest heaved, the sword was heavy in her arm and her legs trembled. Catching her breath, she looked back to Homura, her eyes working their way up the red trail she had just painted down Homura’s chest until they met with Homura’s eyes. 

_ Bzzzt. _ Her eyes shot to the pocket where she kept her phone, then back to Homura. 

“Answer it.” 

She fished through the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the phone. A text from Kyouko:  _ u goin home? _ Sayaka looked at the time, lunch just started. 

Sayaka typed out on the keypad, fingers still trembling:  _ yeah  _

Her phone vibrated again:  _ feel better!  _

She slipped the phone back into her pocket. 

“Satisfied?” 

Just as Sayaka’s mind caught up to what happened, her body had already started to laugh. Breathlessly, she managed to get out the words, “I thought I killed you.” 

“Do you still intend to tell Madoka?” 

“I don’t know,” Sayaka sighed, “I don’t know anything.” Sayaka fell to her knees. She grabbed a flower between her finger and thumb and twirled it, “nice flowers.” 

“Yes. I come here often.” 

“Didn’t take you for the nature type.” 

Homura didn’t respond. 

“I guess you’re gonna kill me now.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I said I’d tell Madoka about the Law of Cycles.” 

“Killing you would be troublesome.” 

“Aw come on, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

“I’m made aware of Madoka’s doings. I’ll intervene when it becomes necessary.” 

“You’re spying on her?” 

“Yes.” 

“Brutal. Are you spying on me too?” 

“I will if it becomes necessary.” 

“Hah. Guess I’m trapped then.” 

“You’re making this more difficult for yourself than it needs to be.” 

“Just remove my memories. I don’t care anymore. I can’t kill you, you win. Remove my memories so I can be happy with Kyouko.” 

“It isn’t that easy.” 

“Why not? I’m telling you I give up. You won. Just do it.” 

Homura clenched her teeth, “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I can’t…” 

Sayaka raised her voice, “what do you mean you can’t?! I’m giving you permission to do it, why can’t you?” 

“I can’t win.” 

“The hell does that mean?” 

She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve Madoka, she didn’t deserve to get away with what she did to Madoka. The world of hope and goodness that Madoka embodied would never allow the devil to win; so even if it meant dragging people unwittingly into her punishment, Homura had to make sure that she didn’t. She choked out, “I need you to know what I did to Madoka.” 

“I don’t want to!” 

“I need you to." 

Sayaka cackled in exasperation, “you really are using me, huh. I’m just your tool. You don’t even see me as a person, do you?” 

Homura didn’t respond. She couldn’t. 

Sayaka sighed and stood up, "can you just take me to the nurse?" 

"Okay." 

In an instant, they were back in the school hallway, Sayaka was back in her uniform, and the bleeding gash down Homura's chest had vanished. They continued to the nurse's office.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re sick?” 

“Yeah,” Sayaka spoke. The voice came from somewhere else in her throat, somewhere unfamiliar. Maybe her throat was unfamiliar. 

“I’m going to have to take your temperature,” the nurse’s voice echoed like it was a million miles away. 

“Okay,” Sayaka spoke again. But it wasn’t her. She wasn’t here at all. 

The nurse produced a thermometer and handed it to Homura. Homura held it in front of Sayaka’s mouth. 

Sayaka’s mouth opened. And then it closed. 

“You’ll have a fever,” Homura whispered. 

It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. There was nothing in this world that was real or meant anything. 

The thermometer beeped and Homura took it out. “She has a fever.” 

Homura was so pathetic that Sayaka couldn’t even stay mad at her. She was just exhausted. It was all so tiring. 

“Alright,” the nurse got out of her seat and walked over to Sayaka, “I’m gonna have to send you home.” 

Sayaka smirked. Yeah. Whatever. 

The nurse spoke to Homura again, “does she have her things?” 

“I’ll go get them.” 

Speaking to Sayaka again, “is your house far from here? Can you make it home?” 

“I can make it.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Homura killed Sayaka in the past, it was because Sayaka’s demise was inevitable; because she was already dead, she had been dead the second she contracted, and the only thing Homura had the power to change was the speed and method by which that death came, and with that meagre power she would make absolutely sure it came before Sayaka had the chance to bring Madoka down with her. Killing Sayaka now would be preventing… what? Madoka’s death wasn't certain anymore; her return to the Law of Cycles wasn’t set in stone either, no matter how much Sayaka threatened. Was it worth killing Sayaka on a whim? Was it worth killing Sayaka just in case? 

The premise of looping time provided Homura with a justification, it eased her mind and told her that anyone she killed could be brought back. There would be no lasting consequences; if she truly desired it, no death would be permanent. Now she was without her time magic, and anyone killed would be truly dead. If she killed Sayaka now and it became a problem, she would have to live with it. If Madoka found out that Sayaka was missing and fell into despair, if Kyouko looked into what happened and learned that Sayaka was spending a lot of time with Homura before she disappeared, or if Homura regretted it... 

That was the truth. It wasn’t pure practicality. She had killed Sayaka, shot her, crushed her soul gem under heel until the incandescent blue glass shattered into fragments and the blue splinters that remained withered to black. Sayaka was a nuisance, the biggest obstacle she had ever encountered outside of Walpurgisnacht itself; and yet, Homura didn’t want to kill her. 

The time loop taught her to view people as obstacles but their time in her labyrinth allowed her to see them as... something else. In the labyrinth they were friends, now they were all too far from each other to be called anything more than strangers at best and enemies at worst; but they weren’t obstacles. They were once cardboard cutouts of people; you could walk around them and see exactly how two-dimensional they were, their personality and likely courses of action written out as notes on their backs in Homura’s own handwriting; but now they were three-dimensional and dynamic, with depth and thoughts and feelings. They were once still, frozen in time; and now they were in motion again. 

They were people. People that she knew, shared experiences with, shared memories with; people that, at times, she had even been able to like. No matter how many times she killed them, they always found a way back. They were fixtures of her life, universal constants. Was it stupid to say that she had grown attached? Was it weak to let yourself be ruled by sentimentality when the easy answer is staring you in the face? 

Yes. It was. She had made an err in judgement. She thought if she reached out to Sayaka honestly, attempted to create common ground between them; it would pacify her. She thought she could gain some control over Sayaka in a way that benefitted the both of them. She was wrong. Sayaka was just as she always was—unruly, uncontrollable, volatile. No, Sayaka was exactly right. Homura was a poor excuse for a devil.


	10. Chapter 10

Sayaka was such a failure. She failed Madoka and she failed Kyouko. 

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t Homura just get over herself and wipe Sayaka’s memories properly? But even by wishing that, she was betraying the Law of Cycles. She wanted the easy way out, she was afraid of the responsibility, she was too gutless to do it so she wanted to run away. Madoka trusted her and instead of doing what she was supposed to, she wished she could turn a blind eye to it all. What a farce. She didn’t deserve Madoka’s trust, she didn’t deserve anything. 

Sayaka wiped her tears on her blanket. This felt awful. At least when she was with Homura, she could pretend that it wasn't her fault. She could yell at Homura for what she did as if she herself wasn't complicit. But she was. She was weak and scared and she was going to let Homura get away with it. She couldn’t kill Homura, she couldn’t tell Madoka, she couldn’t do anything. Homura won. Justice meant nothing because Homura won. 

What point was there in justice when everyone else was happy? If she tore it all apart, wouldn’t that make her the bad guy? Some hero she would be, ripping everyone away from each other and making Kyouko have to exist in a world where she was dead. 

_ Ding dong.  _

Sayaka shot up. The doorbell. She scrambled out of bed and to the front door. Through the glass, she could see a girl standing outside. The girl’s long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail that extended down the length of her back, her auburn eyes looked around lazily as she shifted her weight on her feet. Sayaka’s stomach dropped. It was her. Why was she here? Why can’t they just never see each other again? It would be so much easier if they could just stop doing this. But Sayaka didn’t want that, it was comfortable but it’s not what she wanted. Sayaka swallowed and opened the door. 

"Yo. I brought you your homework," Kyouko beamed and held out a stack of papers. That smile twisted the knife even deeper. 

"Oh, thanks," Sayaka stiffly reached out to grab them. 

"I was gonna leave it on my desk and say I forgot it, but Ms. Saotome made sure I had everything before I left." 

"That's alright," Sayaka responded softly. 

"You feelin' okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, just must've been something I ate." 

"Oh, that sucks. Can I getcha anything?" 

"No, I'm alright. Thank you, though. And thanks for bringing my homework." 

"Yeah, no problem. Hope you feel better," Kyouko smiled and turned to leave, her ponytail waving as she did. 

The way she walked, with a careless stride that could have made her seem bored if you didn’t know her as well as Sayaka did because it was more accurate to say that she was impatiently waiting for life’s next excitement, and if it didn’t come soon enough, she would create it herself; the way she swung her head back and her arms up to stretch; the way she hummed to herself—even just watching her walk away was enough to flood Sayaka with longing and regret. Only when Kyouko was out of sight could she allow herself to breathe. 

Sayaka took a deep breath and wiped her watering eyes. Screw this. Screw all of this. It didn’t matter. Being with Homura felt better than this. Even if it made her angry, even if it pissed her off, at least it made her feel alive. It’s not like anyone would care anyway. The world was Homura’s. Madoka didn’t remember anything and Kyouko didn’t feel what Sayaka felt. Who cares if she uses Homura to feel better? What use was there for justice or righteousness in a world where the devil already won?


	11. Chapter 11

Sayaka was standing outside of Homura’s door. 

Homura’s eyes narrowed, the gem on her earring sizzled in anticipation. 

Sayaka had made a mistake coming here if she was planning some sort of heroic last stand. Homura wasn’t strong enough to defeat Sayaka in battle outright, but she had the magical advantage. If Sayaka was in the mental state that Homura presumed she was in, it wouldn’t even occur to her to attack the source of Homura’s magic, and she couldn’t be killed any other way. 

But Sayaka wasn’t in her magical girl uniform, nor did she have her sword drawn. It made the most immediate sense to Homura that Sayaka, having worked herself into a state of anguish over the thought of being trapped and powerless in the remade world, would be here to goad Homura into killing her; but the body language wasn’t right. Sayaka’s head was hung and her fists were clenched. If she were here to fight, she would be pacing or otherwise attempting to hype herself up; instead, she just stood there. 

Homura called out, “Sayaka?” 

Sayaka jolted very slightly and her weight shifted. She was surprised. She looked at Homura, her eyes wild and confused—scared, even. She didn’t expect to see Homura here. 

“I- I thought you were inside...” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I… I just didn’t want to be alone right now...” Sayaka faked a smile, “that’s fine though, this was probably a bad idea. I’ll head out.” 

So Sayaka wasn't here to fight. That was good. Maybe this was still salvageable. 

“You can come in.” 

“No that’s fine, I’ll get out of your hair," Sayaka had already started to back away. Homura couldn't let her leave, if she left then things would only get worse between them. 

Homura chose to be vulnerable, “I’d like you to come in.” 

Sayaka stopped, “okay...”


	12. Chapter 12

"You can make yourself comfortable in the living room," Homura slipped off her loafers and hung her bookbag up on the coat rack. 

"Yeah…" Sayaka replied. Not much comfort to be found there. 

"I'm making dinner, would you like some?" Homura offered, already making her way towards the kitchen. 

"Okay," Sayaka meandered her way into the living room, which was only separated from the kitchen by a half wall so the two could still see each other. 

Homura messed with something in the kitchen for a time before speaking, "I’m surprised you came here again. I was under the impression you were done with me.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Sayaka continued, “look, are you getting anything out of this?” 

“Yes. This arrangement is mutually beneficial.” 

“Mutually beneficial,” Sayaka repeated, “I.. I shouldn’t even be here.” 

“Yet, you are. You need this, as do I. If you must, tell yourself that you’re only here to berate me and move on.” 

“I’m not going to lie to myself. I accept why I’m here, I’m just… disgusted that I am.” 

“We’ve all done things we’re disgusted by.” 

“Yeah, like what?” 

“Are you asking for an example?” 

“I guess.” 

"There are few things I've done that I'm not disgusted by, but that doesn't mean I regret them.” 

Every now and then Homura would say something that felt real, something that wasn’t coming from the devil but instead coming from the person Homura used to be. It made Sayaka feel like Homura was someone who could understand. They were both messed up, didn’t that make them perfect for each other? 

“How do you live with it?” 

“I don’t.” 

But then Homura would ruin it and Sayaka would remember their places. 

“That’s not helpful at all.” 

“There’s no advice I could give that would be applicable to your situation.” 

“Whatever. Can we just talk about something else now?" 

“Such as?” 

“I don’t know,” Sayaka slumped down into the chair and sighed. She asked, rolling her eyes at the mundanity of the question even though it was all she could come up with, ”see any good movies lately?” 

“No. Have you?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, I saw Through the Valley a River Flows.” 

“How was it?” 

“It was decent. It was just some… romance garbage, but I still liked it.” 

“Do you enjoy romance?” 

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” 

“Me too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah. It’s, uh, hard to watch stuff like that now though.” 

“Yes.” Homura understood. It was hard for her too, probably in the same way, but that was part of the reason she enjoyed them. 

"I noticed you had something playing the other night, when I came over…" 

"Yes, I did. I can't recall what it was though." 

"So is that what you do all day? Sit around and watch TV?" 

"No, I have duties too." 

"Yeah, I guess it isn't easy to keep us trapped in a fake world, huh." 

Homura bit back, "do you believe that this world is fake?" 

"What?" 

"Do you believe that this world is less real than it would have been before I did what I did?" 

"I mean… I don't know. It's hard to feel like it's real when I know you bent it to your will." 

"I don't believe that who created the rules this world follows makes any difference in how real the world is. It's no less real than it was before, the only difference is that now you're aware that reality can be fragile." 

"Well I wish I wasn’t. How am I supposed to feel attached to this place when I know that you’re in control of everything? It's like I'm not even on the same page as normal people anymore." 

"You overestimate my abilities, I’m actually in control of very little. You have forbidden knowledge, yes; but you already crossed that line when you became a magical girl." 

Right. She was a magical girl. The cogs of Sayaka’s brain ground against each other to try and place when exactly she had made that decision, when exactly it was that she crossed that line. She paused and lowered her head, "I can't remember how that happened…" 

"You will." 

"What does that mean? Are you keeping that memory from me?" 

"How you came to be one matters little. Just know that it was your choice." 

"Why are you keeping that memory from me?" 

“The memory doesn’t exist.” 

“So  _ you _ don’t even know how it happened?” 

“If that’s how you interpreted it, then yes.” 

"Would it kill you to just give me a straight answer for once?" 

“You’re already uncomfortable with knowing that I’ve altered this world, this is another thing I’ve altered. It would be better for you not to know.” 

“I don’t care! Tell me how it happened.” 

“I didn’t give you a memory about becoming a magical girl because I couldn’t think of a satisfactory one. The magical girl system was tied to an entity that is now under my control, you became a magical girl through that entity and your contract continued into this world under altered conditions. You never actually contracted as a magical girl in this timeline, but it would be impossible to strip you of your magical girl status, so you still have your power. Satisfied?” 

“What entity?” 

“It’s no longer your issue.” 

“What entity?!” 

“Drop it.” 

“Then why the hell are we still fighting wraiths if the whole system is a sham?” 

“Because there’s still evil in the world, someone needs to be on the side of good.” 

“If I were on the side of good, I would’ve killed you a long time ago.” 

“Yes, and if I were strong enough to protect Madoka, I would have killed you. We’re both weak, don’t pretend otherwise.” 

“God I hate you.” 

“I know.” 

“I hate you so much. I can’t fucking stand you. All you do is piss me off and run me in circles, I don’t even want to be here! I just want Kyouko back, I just want to be able to talk to Kyouko again. But I can’t, I can’t do anything. I can’t kill you, I can’t save Madoka, I can’t even get over myself and pretend to be happy. All I can do is come over here and unload my anger on you but it doesn’t even help because you’re always pretending to be too cool and stoic to feel anything. Just say something human for once! I don’t care if you’re the devil, just talk to me like a fucking person! I keep thinking that maybe you can understand, that maybe you get it, but then you go and say something stupid and we’re back to where we were. Just tell me where you stand, okay? Just drop the bullshit and tell me what you want from me. Do you want me to come over? Because I’ll do that, I have nothing else anymore so yeah I’ll spend time with you if that’s what you want, but I don’t know what you want. Just tell me, just say it. Do you want me here or not? Do you actually like me or are you just trying to confuse me into letting you get away with it?” By the time Sayaka was finished, her eyes were red and wet. 

Homura gave Sayaka time to calm down before replying, "yes, I enjoy your company. I'm conflicted as well, though I'm doing a better job of hiding it. I would like for you to adjust to the world as I modified it, but I also recognize that it would take great effort. That's my fault. I allowed my self-loathing to hinder my magic and now we're both stuck between what we want and what's necessary. I had thought that if we spent time together, I would be able to ground you and keep you stable enough to avoid doing something stupid, and in return I would get to speak to someone who understood me. That's all this ever was. I had no intentions beyond that." 

“Okay…” Sayaka took a shaky breath. 

“I know this isn’t ideal for either of us, but it’s better than the alternative.” 

“And what is the alternative?” 

“The alternative is that I have to kill you. I know you think that sounds preferable to feeling this way, but it’s not. You’ve been dead before, take this chance to enjoy being alive.” 

“So what’s your endgame?” 

“Endgame? My endgame is that Madoka lives here happily until the end of her natural lifespan.” 

“For me, I mean.” 

“I don’t have an endgame for you. I gave up on planning around you a long time ago.” 

“Do you want me to just move on and accept living in this world? Or do you want me to keep coming over here?” 

“I would like for you to be able to move on.” 

“If I did, I’d stop coming over here, you realize that right?” 

“Yes. You’d be able to spend time with Kyouko without feeling guilty so I imagine that’s what you’d spend most of your time doing.” 

“So how is that a win for you? You’d be alone again.” 

“Yes. I’m used to it. As long as Madoka is safe and happy, I’m happy.” 

“Okay…” 

“Do you feel better?” 

“I guess.” 

“You don’t have to come over here, you know. As long as you’re not interfering with Madoka, I don’t care what you do.” 

“I know. I feel better over here than I do alone. So I guess you were right all along.” 

"I wasn't trying to be right." 

"I just don't want to think about anything anymore. I'm so tired of it." 

"Then don't think." 

"God, I wish." 

"Take things one day at a time. Do what feels good in the moment. If you want to spend a day with Kyouko, then do it. Don't think about anything else." 

"The issue with Kyouko isn't just about the Law of Cycles, it's about the fact that I like her more than she likes me." 

"I see. I won’t pretend I know anything about how you feel.” 

“Yeah. Probably better that way.” 

Neither of them spoke for a while. The silence was punctuated by the scraping of kitchen utensils. 

“Dinner’s almost done. Will you be staying afterwards?” 

“Staying?” 

“Yes.” 

Sayaka could already picture herself on the other side of the door, hand still on the doorknob as the door closes behind her, the mechanical clack of the door bolt falling into position serving to dramatize the fact that she’d just made a choice she can’t come back from. A shaky breath taken as she realizes her only chance at comfort is behind her, but she just rejected that comfort and all she had left was an outline of Kyouko that couldn’t be filled. She would step outside and close the door behind her and she’d be completely alone again, with nothing but her thoughts and the cold air. It would be best to stay. 

“Yeah, sure whatever.” 

Sayaka collected herself. She got up and walked to the kitchen, “what are you making anyway?” 

“Omelettes. It’s done.” Homura grabbed two plates from a cabinet to her right and placed them on the counter next to the stove. Once the omelette was cut and plated, she handed a plate to Sayaka. 

They ate next to each other on the couch. Sayaka finished first. 

Homura finished and put her plate down on the coffee table, “you finished quickly.” 

“Yeah. Don’t take it as a compliment.” 

“I won’t. But it did taste alright?” 

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad.” 

“That’s good. It’s been a long time since I’ve cooked for anyone other than myself.” 

“I’m guessing last time was for Madoka.” 

“Yes.” 

Homura's eyes dropped to her lap. Sayaka's were set on the coffee table. They sat in silence. 

Sayaka’s voice croaked out, “why did you do all this for her?" 

Homura massaged her fingers and responded without raising her eyes, “she saved my life." 

"Is that all? I don't know, this just seems really far to go if that's all it was." 

"She was my best friend and my only friend. I had nothing to live for without her." 

"So before the Law of Cycles, Madoka was just a person?" 

"Yes. Then she wished to become the Law of Cycles." 

"All this stuff about timelines is still really confusing." 

"It's not of any consequence anymore. This is the only timeline there is. Anything else exists only as a memory." 

"Maybe.” Sayaka continued, careful of her tone, “if that's how you feel about her, how could you do what you did?" 

Homura’s eyes met with Sayaka, "to the Law of Cycles? I don't expect to change your mind about it." 

"I'm not arguing, I'm asking." 

Homura sighed, "I failed to do what I promised so she shouldered my burdens onto herself. I couldn't allow her to suffer because of my failure." 

Sayaka nodded and let that line of thought end there. If she thought about it too much, they would just start arguing again. 

Homura uncrossed her legs, “would you like to do something?” 

“Like what?” 

“A walk? A movie?” 

“It’s too cold for a walk.” 

“I have a jacket you can borrow.” 

“A movie’s fine.” 

“Alright. Any requests?” 

Sayaka exhaled, “not romance.” 

“Very well,” Homura got up and rifled through a nearby cupboard. Each shelf was filled from end to end with movie boxes. 

“Didn’t realize you were into movies.” 

“I’m not particularly, I got these all recently. Do you like scary movies?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Alright, I’ll buy more.” 

“No that’s fine, you don’t need to do that.” 

“It’s no trouble.” 

“No no really you don’t need to.” 

“Very well,” Homura held up a movie case, “this alright?” 

Sayaka looked at the title on the box, “yeah that’s fine.” 

Homura cracked open the case and inserted the disc into the TV box, “can I get you a drink?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“How about a blanket?” 

“Sure.” 

Homura left the room and came back with a blanket. She tossed it onto Sayaka’s lap, “here.” 

“Didn’t realize you were gonna nanny me.” 

Homura nearly choked in embarrassment, “sorry. I’m not used to having people over.” 

Sayaka almost smiled, “it’s fine.” 

Homura took a seat next to Sayaka and the movie started. 

“Just don’t let me fall asleep like last time.” 

“I won’t.”


	13. Epilogue

Sayaka’s words were bitter, the taste of her skin salty, but the satisfaction sweet. Homura bit down on Sayaka’s earlobe. This was hers. 

“Ow, what the hell,” Sayaka murmured. 

A smile crept across Homura’s lips. Those smiling lips planted themselves on the blue-haired girl’s neck. A voicy breath escaped Sayaka’s lips as Homura’s teeth pushed into her skin. 

“No, not today...” 

Homura slowly pulled back and whispered into Sayaka’s ear, “are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

“Alright,” Homura pulled herself off of Sayaka and straightened her hair. 

Sayaka wiped the saliva off her neck, “you can’t do that all the time, you know. That was a one-time thing only.” 

“Mhmm,” the black-haired girl smirked. 

“And it’s never going further than that, by the way.” 

“Don’t want to have your first time with me? I’m hurt,” Homura teased. 

“No, I don’t, I’m actually saving myself for someone I care about. And you should too.” 

“You don’t think I care?” 

“Fine, care wasn’t the right word. Love. With the flowers and the giggles and the daydreaming and all that bullshit.” 

“Maybe you’re who I love.” A pointless thought experiment. 

“I’m not.” They both knew. This was something else. 

"Maybe you could be." 

"I can't. I see the way you look at her. I get it." 

"Love comes in many forms." 

"Well I'm a romantic, I guess, because this isn't my idea of it." 

Homura stifled a smile, "yes, you are." 

Sayaka pulled herself off the wall and fixed her shirt. Homura tapped the gem on her ear, a tic she'd developed to make sure it was still there. 

"And we definitely can't be doing this in school. You know how much trouble we could get in if we were caught?" 

"Not enough trouble to make me stop." 

"They'd call my parents and then I'd be totally screwed. I get that you don't care, but I care." 

"Very well. Not at school." 

"Good, thank you." 

"But once school ends...” Homura didn’t need to finish the sentence, “I'll be looking forward to it." 

Sayaka's face turned red at the thought, "no not after school either." 

"We'll see." 

"I'm serious!" 

"I know." 

“I’m going back to class,” Sayaka muttered. She could still feel Homura’s teeth on her neck. It made her sick that it felt good. Her mind wandered back to that time, with Homura on top of her, their breaths getting caught in each others’ throats. She remembered the gem on Homura’s ear glowing as they kissed. 

“Your earring is glowing…” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

But it felt like it meant something. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe she just wanted it to mean something more than it did. All it meant was that Homura was something different from Sayaka. She was an untamable force of nature, she was the devil. And the devil wanted Sayaka. It was the devil’s hand running through her hair, the devil’s hand under her shirt, the devil’s lips on hers. 

But the devil still stopped when Sayaka asked. The devil was gentle and soft even though Sayaka could feel the emotions boiling just under the surface. 

“Doesn’t it feel good to give into desire?” 

And Sayaka could have said that this wasn’t what she desired, that Homura wasn’t who she wanted, that giving into desire at the expense of other things was wrong; but it did feel good. It was wrong and maybe that's why it felt good. 

Homura could kill her, take everything from her, remove all her memories and tear her mind to pieces; but she didn't. She remembered those cold hands, delicate on her body as if Homura were holding herself back even as she indulged. Homura teased now but in the moment she was gentle. 

It felt like she had tamed a beast. Was that sick? Was that fucked up? It made her feel special, like she was seeing a part of Homura that nobody else could see because the devil chose her and only her. In those moments, Homura didn't feel like the devil, she felt like someone Sayaka could love. But she was the devil, and the two could never love because their hearts were already taken. 

It made Sayaka’s stomach turn.


End file.
